Céle Drýcræft
by moonfirecat4
Summary: Magic can be tempermental, can often lash out at those who use it. Epecially Warlocks, those born with magic in their veins, for it is apart of themselves, and can often harm it's wielder.


Céle Drýcræft

It was an unseasonably warm bright day, where everyone was outside enjoying what was most likely to be, a very short lived warm spell. Everyone but a certain black haired manservant.

Even though it was quite hot out the boy couldn't help but feel cold chills all over. His entire body ached right down to his bones. It felt as if he made one wrong move his bones would snap in two, and he'd crumble into a tiny heap of broken bones and cold flesh. He trudged up the stairs towards Arthur's chambers, willing himself to keep going if only for the sake of not having to be punished by mucking out the stables if he were late.

He paused at the door to catch his breath, before he knocked rather weakly. The simple action causing a pain to shoot through his knuckles all the way up to his shoulder. When he heard the grunted "Enter" from the Prince he shouldered his way into the room not pausing to glance at the already up Arthur, opting instead to head straight for the unmade bed.

"So he actually knows how to knock!" a smug voice sounded from behind him, "I always thought you were just raised in a barn and didn't know any better."

Merlin didn't reply just reached for the sheets at the bottom of the bed.

"What? No witty backtalk? No prat insults?" Arthur questioned as he sat down at his table. When he received no reply he started to become irritated, "Merlin! Are you even listening?"

Started Merlin jerked his head up causing him to start coughing. "What?" he gasped in between coughs.

"Merlin, are you alright?" Arthur asked worriedly starting to head over to the slouched form.

"I'm fine," Merlin said in a weak voice, turning to continue making the bed.

"Are you sure? You don't look so well, maybe you should have the rest of the day off…"

"I'm fine Arthur," Merlin interrupted.

"…Alright," the Prince said sitting down, he didn't look convinced.

Once Merlin had finished making the bed he turned to face Arthur, "What else do you want me to…" he dropped off realizing that he had forgotten his breakfast, "I'm so sorry Arthur I'll go get your food right away," he apologized while sprinting out the door.

As he hurried down the stone steps he began to cough again, lifting his coat covered arm to shield his mouth. When he arrived in the kitchens he spotted Arthur's meal, grabbed it without hesitation, and began to hurry back up. The trek downstairs had been a lot easier than going up. In his haste he began to take the steps two and three at a time. By the time he arrived back at Arthur's chambers he was quite exhausted. Not remembering to knock this time he opened the door before setting the plate down in front of the waiting Prince.

In his sudden state of hunger at seeing food Arthur forgot all about his concern for Merlin's well being, "Merlin don't just stand there, the fireplace cinders need sweeping."

"Yes, sire," he mumbled before dropping to his hands and knees to sweep the dirty flagstones of any soot left over from last night's fire.

"And when you're done you're to go with me to training. It's been too long since I've trained with a sword, and you haven't trained with me for a while," Arthur said around mouthfuls of meat and bread.

"Yes, sire," Merlin mumbled again too worn out to argue with his master.

After Merlin had hauled the shields and swords down from their places in the armory and lugged them to the practice field, Arthur tossed him the smaller blade of the two, which Merlin promptly fumbled and dropped. Just narrowly missing cutting off his foot with the sharp blade.

"_Mer_lin, will you always be so clumsy?" the Prince asked exasperatedly.

Merlin didn't respond, just picked up the sword and hefted it uncomfortably in his hands.

"Alright so first we'll work on your defense, my offence," Arthur informed him before he dropped into an offensive stance.

Merlin wasn't quite ready for the powerful blow that he just managed to block before it connected with his right shoulder. Arthur promptly drew back and swung again this time for Merlin's left side, again Merlin blocked it but only just. Arthur drew back one more time before bringing the sword down in an overhead swing. Merlin swung his sword up over his head, but wasn't able to brace himself for the crash of metal against metal. The sword slipped from his hands, landing beside him on the grass. He started to cough violently, the air feeling as though it were being ripped from his throat.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed rushing over to the hunched and coughing figure. His hands fluttering uselessly over his friend not knowing what to do to help him.

Merlin raised both hands to grasp at his chest, it felt as though a tight vice had gripped his ribs and lungs in an icy fist. He finally slumped to the ground on his knees not being able to draw in any air to his depraved lungs.

Arthur grabbed his manservant by the shoulders, trying desperately to keep him upright while he proceeded to pound on his back. "Merlin, breathe!" Arthur cried, "You have to breathe!"

At last Merlin's coughing died down to small gasps of air. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief and stopped pounding, but continued to hold him upright. Merlin still gripped his chest with his right hand in an almost desperate attempt to hold himself together.

"Common let's get you to Gaius," Arthur said gently as he pulled the boys left arm over his shoulder to support him as they made their way to Gaius's chambers, Arthur hauling most of Merlin's small weight.

When they arrived Gaius looked up from his medical book in surprise, "What is the matter?"

Arthur helped Merlin to the closest chair before he turned his attention to Gaius, "Merlin had a coughing fit in the middle of the practice field. He was literally brought to his knees by the force of it."

"Oh my, let me have a look at you," Gaius said his voice laced with worry as he advanced towards Merlin.

"I'm fine Gaius it was nothing just a few coughs," Merlin protested weakly, trying to inch away from Gaius's approaching hands.

Gaius rested his hand on the back of the boys head to hold him steady while the other sought out the boy's forehead, "Good God Merlin you're burning up!"

"No I'm not, I'm quite cold actually," the raven haired boy mumbled.

"Gaius what's wrong?" Arthur asked concerned.

"He seems to have come down with something, exactly how serious I don't know yet, but if his fever is any indication I'd say the situation is quite grave," Gaius replied in a tight voice.

"I'm fine really," Merlin protested finally able to back away from the physician's seeking hands.

"_Mer_lin, when will you stop being so dense?" Arthur asked, "If Gaius says you're sick…you're sick, and I won't have another word about it. You will not return to work until you are good and healthy again."

"Arthur is right," Gaius said glancing towards the boy who was slowly retreating towards his room, "You shouldn't get into anything strenuous until you are well again."

"But I am fine!" Merlin exclaimed, "If you insist I'll rest for the rest of the day, but I promise I will be absolutely perfect by tomorrow."

"Hmph, yes well we'll see about that," Gaius said rolling his eyes.

"Good," Arthur looked pleased with himself, "Now stay in bed, do whatever Gaius tells you to do, and please _try_ to look after yourself."

"Yeah, yeah, now go on and do all your princely duties you prat," Merlin muttered under his breath before retreating to his room.

"That's the Merlin I know," Arthur said beamingly.

As soon as Merlin had closed his door behind him, he dropped his pretense, letting his shoulders cave in on himself and letting his head drop towards his chest. He felt _awful_. Never in his life had he felt as sick as he did right now.

Slowly he inched his way over to the bed before collapsing on top of it, sighing when his body met the flat soft surface. He had to recover by tomorrow if only for Arthur's sake, the idiot wouldn't be able to function without him for the rest of the day, let alone a full day.

Suddenly he felt another chill rack through his body, he bones still feeling weak and fragile he took care to shift slowly and to stay as still as possible.

Merlin's last thoughts were of whatever this illness was it felt as if it were fighting him from the inside out.

**Alright tell me how it is. Do you like it? Do you hate it? Should I go on with the story. And yes, yes I know, I shouldn't be starting another story when I've got like 6 others that need to be finished, started, posted etc. But this has been sitting on my laptop for MONTHS It need to GET OUT!**


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